You can't flat-pack love!
by Cats070911
Summary: Love slowly blossoms between Tommy and Barbara when circumstances force them together. But will his impetuous actions at the warehouse ruin everything?


**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply.

* * *

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tommy Lynley told his sergeant. "I'll come straight over."

Barbara Havers grimaced. She had only wanted to inform him, not involve him. "No need, Sir. I just wanted to let you know."

"Where will you stay tonight?"

"I...I don't know. I'll probably stay here; see what I can salvage."

She sounded tired and depressed. "I'll come over and help. Then you can come back here and stay. I won't hear of you going anywhere else."

Despite her pride and need to be independent, she would welcome the help and a warm bed. "You must have had other plans tonight..."

"Nonsense. I was just doing the estate's taxes. They can wait. I'll be there in half an hour. No arguments." Tommy rang off before she could object. He had heard the grateful tone, even in her objection.

The scene was worse than he had imagined. An inch of putrid, muddy water covered her flat. He had worn his short wellies and was glad he had thought of it. The carpet would be ruined, and he noticed the plasterboard on the walls was swollen and stained. That would also need replacing. An odour that reminded him of a bag of river fish he had once accidentally left in the sun assaulted his nostrils.

Barbara was squatting on her haunches in the kitchen checking things in lower cupboards. Anything salvageable she was putting on the bench but boxes of flour and food had already been tossed into an open, black garbage bag. "Thanks for coming over, Sir."

Tommy nodded. "Do they know what happened?"

"The water main burst and created a sinkhole in the block behind us. Dirty water banked up then came cascading through the flats. You could hear it coming. I didn't know what it was so I opened my front door, and it poured in. I couldn't shut the door against it. I couldn't stop it. All the flats on this level copped it. Mine's only marginally worse."

Tommy worked with Barbara to systematically go through her flat. At his insistence, she crammed all her clothes into two bags. "They'll smell if you don't, and you'll never get it out," he warned her.

He looked around. Her furniture was cheap and not overly cheerful. Muddy water had soaked up into the cloth of her lounge, leaving motley brown stains. It would be cheaper to replace it than repair it. Her bed and wardrobe were foil covered chipboard in the pattern of some fake Scandinavian wood. Already the foil was lifting and the chipboard was expanding in bubbles as the water saturated it. Most of her furniture was ruined. Her books were on high shelves and safe, at least for the moment. None of her framed photographs or electrical goods seemed affected, except the television which had short-circuited and exploded in flames. The broken glass lay on the floor in front of the charred shell of the television stand. Time for a new flat-screen.

It was nearly two o'clock before they had done all they could. Tommy put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her gently. "Come on, it's time I took you home for a nice shower and some sleep."

He was surprised when she leant her head against him. "Thanks. I'm glad you came over. I'm not sure I could have faced it alone."

"My pleasure, Barbara." Tommy felt oddly warm. He was shocked that he enjoyed holding her close. He hesitated as long as he could then rubbed her upper arm comfortingly. "Let's go."

A cup of warm cocoa in his kitchen was followed by warm showers for both of them. In his robe, with his hair freshly combed, he knocked tentatively on her door.

"Come in."

"I just wanted to check you have everything you need. Make yourself comfortable. This is your home now for as long as you need it to be. Tomorrow I'll give you the full tour. If you need me, I'm just next door, on the right."

"Thanks, Sir. I appreciate it, honestly."

She looked small and exhausted. He fought the urge to embrace her but managed a generous smile. "I know. Now get some sleep."

* * *

The next two weeks sped by. Tommy enjoyed having her company, and he knew she had begun to relax after a few days when she used his washing machine without asking first if he minded, and started to tuck her feet up under her on his sofa while she watched her trashy television reality shows. He had expected it to be difficult to live with her. He had envisaged mess everywhere and chaos to invade his orderly existence. Instead, she had made an effort to keep everything tidy and seemed to enjoy having extra space. She had even helped with cooking, although takeaway meals were far safer options. They had become flatmates with surprising ease.

They had been back to her flat twice. A week after the flood, the water had gone, but everything remained sodden. The smell had worsened, and it was decidedly unpleasant to be there. None of her neighbours had returned either as everyone was still waiting for their insurance claims to be processed before they could start repairs. They packed her entire life into half a dozen boxes which he stored at the end of his hall.

It was three weeks before rectification work even began to the block's surrounds. The footpaths and concrete on the common areas had lifted and twisted. Gas pipes had buckled, and sewerage lines had been broken. More worryingly the wall at the end of her block had subsided and needed to be underpinned. It would take two weeks to complete before they would be able to start internal repairs. Barbara fretted that her boss might tire of having her around. "Are you sure it is still okay for me to stay Tommy?"

"Of course. It's been good for me to have company."

Barbara believed him. He had lost a lot of his tension and grouchiness. At home, he had insisted she call him by his name. It had taken a week to convince her and at first, she had hated it at, but now it seemed natural and easy. Even at work she occasionally slipped, but never in front of anyone. She knew Jim Givens had started a book on when they would have a massive argument, and Tommy would throw her out, but no one else understood their relationship. They never had, and she knew no matter what happened their bond could never be broken. "Yeah, I never thought I'd be able to live with anyone, but it's been...fun."

Tommy grinned at her. "Yes, it has. Well, you have to stay another month at least now. Fancy a movie after dinner?"

* * *

When the flat was almost ready Tommy became moody. He did not want her to leave. Sharing a house for nearly three months, they had worked out a seamless routine. They had even found comfy spots on the couch next to each other. They never actually touched but her proximity was soothing. He liked having her around, even on nights when they had spent all day together arguing about a case. One morning at about four o'clock she marched into his bedroom, shook him awake and expounded a theory about the predator attacking young schoolboys. He had spent the next three hours with her perched on his bed as he tried to pick holes in her hypothesis. The next morning, convinced she was correct, he found the last piece of the puzzle. By lunchtime they had made an arrest and by evening had secured a confession. They had celebrated with a few too many beers at the pub followed by a few more at home. Barbara had fallen asleep on his lounge room floor in front of the fire. Tommy had not wanted to leave her so had curled up next to her and draped his arm over her. The next morning neither of them mentioned waking up still snuggled together. Instead they both made out they were a lot more hungover than they were and had retreated to the relative safety of their rooms.

Living together had also given them the opportunity to introduce each other to new aspects of culture. Tommy had enjoyed watching her crime dramas on television and she had shown genuine interest in some of the galleries and museums he had taken her to visit. He had not managed to convince her that ballet was in any way watchable but she had not minded the night when he had taken her to see the opera in the park. He had packed a picnic and they had shared it on a blanket on the lawn. When an unexpected cool breeze had sprung up she had let him shield her. She had willingly sat between his legs and after a while when he had tentatively put his arms around her waist she had leant back against him. They had sat silently listening to the opera for over an hour. Tommy could not even remember what opera had been performed. All he could remember was the fresh citrusy smell of her hair and her warmth that reached parts of him he had assumed were long dead. They had not spoken about it and he had not tried to hold her again but for that night he had felt more connected to the world than he had in years.

Barbara's memories of the night were unclear. She remembered being afraid she would say or do something that would ruin everything. Tommy had been a gentleman, protecting her from the wind and all she had thought about was how he was touching her, how his breath caressed her neck raising goose bumps and how much she had wanted him to pull her back onto the blanket and kiss her. It was the only time since moving in with him that she had been unable to hide her feelings for him completely; feelings that had only grown deeper over the weeks.

Now it was time to leave she knew she would miss him. She would always cherish these few months as the closest thing she had ever had to a real relationship. They had just come back from the pub and had the next few days off. As they sat and watched the late night news, she knew she could not delay the inevitable any longer. "I think I'll go tomorrow and order my new furniture. The insurance has come through, and the painters will be finished next week."

Tommy grunted. "No hurry. Let the smell clear."

"Tommy, I can't keep putting it off. Most of the other residents have moved back in already. Will you come with me to help me chose?"

He sighed heavily. He did not want her to leave, but he could understand why she would want her space again. "Yes, do you have anywhere in mind?"

* * *

Lynley found the massive warehouse complex at Wembley daunting. As they ascended the escalators, he began to feel uneasy. Barbara collected a pencil, blank want-list form, and paper measuring tape reverently as if it were a requirement of entry. Slowly they were herded down the walkway, like sheep in an abattoir, by the press of anxious shoppers. Subtle blue arrows on the grey linoleum guided them through the maze of minuscule rooms crammed with furniture to show how original the manufacturer was by integrating the functions of an entire house in less than one hundred and fifty square feet. He was fascinated and appalled. "Barbara, I think we should go somewhere else."

"Nonsense. They have everything I need."

The mazes of alternative dolls houses filled with flat pack opened into a cavernous space misnamed 'Lounge'. Hard looking, bland sofas filled the floor but to add to his nightmare more were attached to the walls at angles that leered down at him like Gaudi sculptures, grotesque and misshapen. Tommy watched in horror as Barbara examined several options then headed for an unyielding, unwelcoming couch. "How tall are you?" she asked.

"A fraction over six one."

"In millimetres?"

"About one eight five five."

"Good. Lie down on this and see if you fit."

"Why me?"

"You're the only person who's ever slept on my couch so you can compare."

He sat, then lay awkwardly. "No, totally unsuitable," he declared. He glanced around. "What about that black leather one?"

Barbara walked over and examined the tag then sat in it. "It's comfy but too dear. I have to buy a bed, a lounge, a bookcase, a TV stand and a wardrobe for eleven hundred pounds. This couch is nearly five. I need something cheaper."

Tommy felt sweaty and slightly unwell; crying infants in strollers and mewling toddlers running around his feet added to his misery. The place was awash with newlyweds and the economically deprived. "No."

Barbara assumed he was offering to cover additional costs. "No? Yes! I'm not having you pay extra so I can have a leather couch."

"I wasn't offering."

"Good." She spotted another option in a heavy neutral linen. "This one might be okay." She sat on it and bounced up and down the noted the item number on her list.

Tommy tried hard not to be judgmental. He smiled tightly and followed her through the lounge room storage section around the corner to the beds. Small rooms decorated as bedrooms lined the wall and the mattresses were on display for people to test. Tommy hoped he was not expected to road-test her bed. To his relief, she handed him her pencil and tape then tried out several single beds. "This one I think. Not too soft, not too hard."

"Who are you? Goldilocks?" he snapped. "And why do you want a single bed?" Barbara looked offended, and he knew that expression. He was about to be given his first lecture on class and privilege in three months.

"My room is only small. Other than at home...I mean your place...I've only ever slept in a single bed. It's not like I get...visitors. Besides, they're cheaper."

Tommy had reached his breaking point. He grabbed her arm and steered her into one of the small bedrooms. He was surprised to see behind the wall was a smaller bathroom area. He funnelled her in there. "Barbara, I don't want you living in a flat full of cheap, flat pack furniture that is uncomfortable and styleless."

"Well, Lord Asherton, seems you haven't been listening. I don't have the space for a Chesterfield, and I can't afford it. It's good quality flat pack. It suits me and my budget. If you hate being here so much, leave. I'll catch the tube back hom...to your place."

"Barbara, I've been trying to ask you all week to stay with me. I don't want you to move out. We get on well. We have fun together. Stay. Rent out your flat."

"I can't! What would everyone at work think? I haven't even been paying you rent. I can't afford half of your place."

"I own it. You don't need to pay rent."

"I'm still using half the water and the elect..." Tommy had backed her into the tiny space of the shower. He was standing so close to her she could feel his legs either side of hers. He reached around and pulled the shower curtain along the rail, closing them off from the world. Barbara looked up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done months ago." He braced his hands on the walls, either side of her head, then bent down and kissed her softly.

Barbara was speechless. His lips had been hot and pliant. She had not often been kissed, but she knew his was a tender, loving kiss. She wanted more, but she did not kiss him back. This was too surreal, too out of character to comprehend.

"I don't just want to share my house. I want to share my bed and my life with you. I'm hoping you feel that way too." He kissed her again to reinforce his point. This time, it had a lustful promise of private pleasures.

She refused to return his kiss. "Tommy! No! You had weeks to say something or act, and now you do it here!"

"Bad timing I agree, but can we go outside and talk about it?"

"You're serious?"

He kissed her again, adding a touch more spice. "Never more so."

Barbara pushed past him and hurried back onto the main walkway. Tommy groaned as he watched her marching along. He caught up to her quickly, but she ignored him. They weaved past bookcases and television stands, desks, dining rooms, kitchens, wardrobes and children's rooms. Barbara stormed down the stairs, and Tommy hoped they could exit. Instead, they had to follow the arrows past an array of kitchen utensils, soft furnishings, decorations until finally the dull odour of cardboard assaulted him as they reached the impossibly tall stacks of flat-pack. "Barbara, I'm sorry if I've offended you," he said desperately. "I thought...I thought you might feel the same way."

She continued her path past the checkout and out into the carpark. She remembered the row where his car was parked and headed straight to it. He was still trailing her with apologies. When she reached the front of his vehicle, she stopped and turned to him. "Unlock it, please. I want to go home."

"Barbara, can we talk about this, please. I'm trying hard to tell you I love you."

"You don't know the meaning of the word."

Tommy was becoming angry. "Of course I do. These last weeks, we've proven that we can live together. I don't want you to go."

"Exactly Tommy! You think you love me because you think you'll lose me. It was the same with Deborah and Helen. You always want what you can't have. You pine and mope and hope everyone will want to comfort you and fly into your arms. Deborah understood it, but Helen felt sorry for you, and it made you both miserable in the end. I don't want that for us Tommy, either of us."

"It wasn't like that..." Tommy knew that it had been. He had wanted Helen more when her heart belonged to Rhys. He had wanted his friend back and fooled himself into thinking it was love. He had known the first time he slept with her that it was not, at least not the sort of love he craved but by then he had been committed. Barbara's words stunned him. She had seen everything unfold.

"You encouraged me. You never tried to stop me."

"I didn't know. Not until I first saw you kiss her by the wall. Then it was too late. I couldn't walk up and say 'stop, you don't really love each other.' And I knew marriage for you was about much more than love. Helen was a good match for you."

Tommy leant against the bonnet of his car and looked at the asphalt. "Barbara, this is about us, not my past. You're right in a way. In most ways. But not about how I feel about you. I am scared of you leaving. These last months have made me understand that whatever it is you and I share, call it understanding, a bond, love...I need that, not only at work but home. You can be the most frustrating, annoying and stubborn woman but you're my frustrating, annoying and stubborn woman. You make me feel alive. You make me feel whole. I should have said something earlier. I should have kissed you so many times but I was scared."

"Why?"

"In case you did what you're doing now. I didn't want to be rejected."

"I'm not rejecting you, but I need to be sure your feelings are real."

He looked up and took her hand. He pulled her towards him and gave her a heart-warming smile. "Let me prove it. Let me take you home and make love to you."

"You think sex will prove it?"

"You can always tell love from lust."

"No, Tommy. I don't have your experience to know. You missed your chance to show me. I wanted you to kiss me. Remember that night at the opera? I thought if you felt that way that you would have done it then."

"I wanted to, but I was trying to find out if you loved me."

"You could have asked. I've been in love with you since...Yorkshire."

He was shocked. "You have? How did you hide it all those years?"

"I don't think I did. You just weren't looking for it. You had plenty of opportunities these last few months Tommy. If you loved me, you would have said something before. I don't doubt you love me as a friend, but you're not in love with me. You just want me to keep you company. Now can we go home please."

Tommy stood and trapped her between his body and the car door. "You said home."

"You knew what I meant." She tried to wriggle free.

"Do you think of it as home?"

Barbara grunted non-committally. "I suppose so," she said begrudgingly. "But I need to move back to my _real_ home. Alone."

"It feels like home because it's with me. Until you moved in it was just a house to me, now it is home. Our real home is with each other Barbara."

"You're not sweet talking me into this Tommy. You can't flat-pack love. You can't take it home and screw it together and expect it to be perfect."

"I know. Give me two weeks. Stay with me, just as we are. Let's talk though everything, no matter how painful it is. Give me a chance to prove myself and give yourself permission to be happy."

"You know what they'll say at work."

"I don't care what they think. I don't care what anyone thinks. I only care what you think."

Barbara looked up at him. She could see her face reflected in his sad, brown eyes. She looked as frightened as he appeared. "Maybe we've talked too much Tommy."

He watched her carefully. He knew she was debating their future. He moved his face as close as he dared. She continued to look at him as he went even closer. He stopped an inch from her mouth. She closed the gap. Her lips trembled against his, but as his arms enveloped her, she relaxed. Slowly she followed his lead. A soft brush became pressure, then a series of small kisses. Tommy gently coaxed her mouth open. He waited for her to respond. When she did, he knew beyond doubt what they felt was real and lasting.

He leant back and looked at her. Her face was serene. All the fear had gone, and she had a mischievous twinkle. "I love you, Barbara."

"I think we should go home, Tommy. We have some boxes to unpack."


End file.
